


Erica

by SuspendedInGaffa28



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adoption, Depression, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inner Dialogue, Life - Freeform, Original Fiction, POV Original Character, Parent-Child Relationship, experiences, thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24760522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuspendedInGaffa28/pseuds/SuspendedInGaffa28
Summary: a young woman emerging from a broken relationship finds she is pregnant and alone and goes through pregnancy alone and feels no alternative to having her baby adopted and the novella deals with her thoughts and decisions and life unfolding after this event





	Erica

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Fair Warning: this is an original piece of fiction. Not Fandom/Ship orientated! Though I'm posting this on my account it is NOT my work, my Mum wrote it (I'm helping her with the whole posting process as she is not tech savvy).
> 
> hi please have a read of my novella I wrote in 2008 I had trouble with an ending to the story, it is a bit on the sad side of life , it is fiction but there are some of my own experiences and it is themes of lost love, life going not according to the plan, not having a plan and loss etc hopefully there is some optimism in there too  
> From Angelica (author)

The waitress with the curly permed hair and mauve eye shadow led the couple to a quiet table in the corner, she knew how demonstrative they would become during the meal, as they had been in earlier that week. “He is very handsome.” thought the waitress, as she handed the man a menu as large as the table; he  
was dressed in leathers and an AC DC tee shirt, his black hair flowing around his shoulders.  
“I will be along in a minute to take your order” she smiled and addressed the tall blonde girl, this  
girl being ordinarily attractive but in no way stunning.  
Presently, the young couple relaxed and smiled gleefully while feeding each other hot fudge sundae  
from a long spoon.  
.  
“You know, you narrowly miss being beautiful.” he told her.  
“Thanks, I think.” she laughed.  
“Whats your full name?” Meredith asked  
“Casper Jeremiah Abraham McPhee.”  
“What, are your parents hippies or something?”  
“They are both dead.” Their eyes locked in a trance, Meredith said  
“So are mine, I lived with Aunt Ernestine since they died when I was fourteen.”  
“Well, I think that means we are bound together by our experiences in life. This is our second date  
but I will make you fall in love with me.” One year previously, aged eighteen, Meredith Eastwick had had enough of residing in Aunt  
Ernestines bungalow, in a small Dorset village.  
She applied and was accepted for university in a Scottish town. “Deferred gratification”,  
Ernestine called it. “You will leave university and have a glittering career,” - yeah, right.  
Her first year of the undergraduate course passed uneventfully, if pleasantly – afternoons  
in reference libraries, student bars, female halls of residence and the pecking order therein;

she found she had to ditch her natural shy reserve and get in the swing of things. She began to wear  
bright makeup, hairspray in her blonde hair and provocative dresses. Thus she met a man: In  
those late eighties college days she met Casper, wearing a black leather jacket, sporting long black  
hair and rude heavy metal tee shirt.  
“What are you studying?” she asked.“You” he said, and it was like a fly being trapped in a web; the seduction was so easy.

Whenever she was around him she felt herself falling. “In love” was like physically being in a  
place held captivated and captive. It is not something that is necessarily going to be good for  
you, or prosper your soul or heart, or mind.  
“Christmas 88” she wrote in her diary, and tried not to cringe as she read it to her friend;-  
“My love is alive, Our love is true, you make me feel like I am on drugs you make me feel  
like you  
My heart is bursting, listen to Atom Heart Mother# with me, Stay with me, with your eyes  
of brown look into my eyes of blue. I dare to love you”  
Marie, her friend laughed at the end of the recital. “Its like you think you are not worthy, Hail  
I am not worthy, I am not worthy” she mocked.  
Meredith and Casper traveled in his car “A rusty bucket that gets you from A to B.”, in  
his words. They stayed in remote B+Bs in Sutherland, perusing the map; laughing at the chintzy  
decor and snooty proprietors, in their own cocoon, listening to early REM and psychedelic furs  
in the car, stopping to watch a beautiful sunset.  
Time passed and she had never felt so happy, yet in her soul she knew it would end and  
her self esteem had always been low. Her twenty year old innocent mind was naive and  
impressionable, and Casper was stamped all over her mind.  
It was a cold winter love, fueled by southern comfort and lemonade. They missed lectures,  
atom heart mother by pink floyd choosing instead afternoon cinema outings to watch sci-fi.  
Meredith sneaked Casper into the female halls of residence until the disapproval of her  
contemporaries was obvious and the couple searched newspaper columns for flats to rent.  
They moved into their new home together. It was an expensive monthly rental, but it was a  
step up. The walls were painted pale green and there was a fireplace and potted plants.  
It reminded Meredith of Aunt Ernestines home.  
By this time Casper had joined a rock band and was out rehearsing most evenings.  
Meredith didnt mind as she was busy making their flat homely. One Saturday they held a  
flat warming party. All the usual folk were there, Paula and her boyfriend Mo, Deks and  
George from Merediths college class, Finn and Annelise and Marie; friends from the pub.  
The table was covered with plates of appetizing food and Casper had filled the kitchen with  
assorted bottles of alcohol. People milled around the small flat. The atmosphere was good.  
Paula was drunk and she painted Mo's face with her make up, to look like David Bowie.  
Casper was the DJ in the corner by the stereo unit.  
At one point they played party games of sticking post-it notes on their foreheads and  
everyone had to guess who was who, “charades on speed” Mo called it.  
“Put on some Aerosmith, Casper”, someone shouted.  
“No, I want to listen to Thin Lizzy, just Thin Lizzy, only Thin Lizzy.”, he smiled and  
refused to meet Merediths eyes.  
In early November 89, they were having, according to Meredith, a cosy evening in the flat,  
to celebrate her passing all her exams, the reality was Casper had been AWOL for two  
days and had just returned. She thought to herself -  
“He is lying on the sofa, comatose; he is beautiful, he is still mine but mostly he belongs  
to drugs and heavy metal saints.“ She photographed him lying there wearing his blue checked  
shirt and black jeans. “He is gone from me.” she whispered.  
Casper had reeled her in and it was now over , he just had not said it.  
The anguish of this – soon to happen – heartbreak made her feel like a toddler abandoned by its  
mother. She sat there for hours.  
“Stop being melodramatic” she said to herself, as she wrote in her journal  
“Love is easy; love should be banned, love is weak, and – we blame Snoopy really.”

Meredith returned to the flat after a ten day trip to London for the purpose of job interviews. She  
switched on the radio. “Don;t fear the reaper” # was playing, one of her and Caspers “top ten”.  
The phone rang and she picked it up with a sense of foreboding.  
“Casp, is that you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Whats wrong. I thought you would be here.”  
Long silence.  
“Can we call it a day?”, he said  
“Sorry?”  
“Lets call it a day, honey. Theres someone else, I dont feel the same way about you anymore.  
We used to mean a lot to each other. That is history now. You dont mean anything to me now.”  
Why is it, raged Meredith, that you can be with a mute adolescent fool for over a year but they can  
be extremely eloquent when providing a break-up explanation? Her heart pounded, she shouted -  
“I hate you, you bag of shit. I always was too good for you.”  
“Baby, one thing I wont miss about you is the insults.” he replied and hung up.  
It was a strange endearment, “baby” for him to use, he had never said it to her before.

#Dont fear the reaper by Blue Oyster Cult played in the background. Two hours later, Paula sat with her in the kitchen, uncorking a second bottle of red wine  
Meredith drank coffee instead because alcohol made her feel sick of late.  
Paula told her that Mo had told Paula that Casper had moved in with a petite green eyed  
antipodean called Lizzie, they had moved to a flat above a shop and they were planning a move  
ultimately to Australia.  
“you will have seen her before.” said Paula.  
“Only love can break your heart” came on the radio. “very appropriate” said Paula.  
They moved through to the lounge and sat on the sofa. She said to Paula petulantly  
“Casper is six foot one and I am five foot ten, why is he going out with her?”  
Paula said “Some men like to feel protective over their women, like they are delicate.  
You are tall enough to look after yourself.”  
“Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.”  
Paula exclaimed “The Berlin Wall has just come down and you are brooding over.....this!  
Get things in perspective.”Paula concluded “Love is like a jigsaw. It is difficult for you M, but for  
him and her the jigsaw pieces match.”  
Paula mumbled, as she lay on the sofa falling asleep, clutching her glass of wine -  
“Dont let this break-up get under your skin.”  
But get under her skin, it did, it did, it did.  
March 1990 was a cold time, snow and icy cold winds. Meredith sat in the red velvet  
armchair, staring at the flames in the fire, contemplating and warming her hands.  
Two hours earlier she had been chatting happily to her friends at college, they were studying for  
Honours. A lecturer had stopped her in the refectory.  
“Meredith, why didnt you sign up for this Honours year?”  
“I dont know, Sir.”  
# Only love can break your heart” by Neil Young played on the radio again.

“Youve more than got the ability. What other plans do you have?”  
“I dont know, Sir.” she lied “Life just kind of happens to me.”  
He, thinking that she was making a joke, laughed nervously and walked away.  
Marie said over lunch “Meredith, you are putting on the beef. Do you want to do aerobics classes  
Tuesdays six til - .”  
“No, I dont want to do aerobics.” Meredith interrupted “I'll phone you later, I have to go.”

Walking away from the campus for the last time, she returned to the flat. Casper had, generously,  
paid up their rented flat for three months before he left, enabling her to have somewhere to live.  
She felt secure within these pale green painted walls and Italian prints above the fireplace, she had  
removed all his left behind “stuff”, two boxes of which went to Mo;s house.  
Meredith purchased a local newspaper. It was “jobs day” and she really should start looking.  
Aunt Ernestines limited financial help would run out soon. None of the jobs appealed.....she turned to the  
next page; and there staring up at her was the face of her love and his new wife, grinning like  
zealous idiots from their wedding photograph for all to see.  
It had been a long day, Meredith sighed, besides, distressed as she was by the photo she had other  
problems.  
Her feet were swollen, and she had only walked three miles. Added to that she had  
sore breasts and two missed periods. Last week she had bought a pregnancy test.  
She considered;  
“There is no point in calling this a pregnancy test. When a woman is in the position of doing the  
test, she already knows she is pregnant, there being so many symptoms.  
She went through to the bedroom, looked at her diary dates for the fourth time that day; test still not  
done. She was safe in the knowledge that she was expecting Casper Jeremiah Abraham McPhee;s  
child sometime in august 1990. Falling asleep, she snuggled into the duvet.

Two weeks later, Meredith walked by the seaside to get some air; dressed in a long black coat to  
hide her figure. She stopped at a cafe to eat a big cooked breakfast, and then she went to see a film  
alone just to pass the time and give her brain some distracting information. This did not work,  
however. She sat in the cinema,eating popcorn whilst feeling nauseous; at least it was warm.  
The same thoughts ran through her mind, over and over again.  
Option one, Meredith considered, is to give birth and give the baby up for adoption, thus securing  
a good future for her offspring which in her current, very depressed state, she did not feel she  
could provide.  
Option two, she thought, is to have the baby and keep the baby, beg help from Ernestine, get a job,  
get a nursery place, get local authority housing, loads of people do it, after all.  
As the film ended, option three appeared in her mind and she began to feel sick again.  
Eventually, option one seemed the best and only solution, this was Meredith using her head and not  
her heart. As she walked along the beach she raged “how could he have done this to me? He is  
now free to live his life, getting married, emigrating half way round the world.” She was stuck,  
coping with the aftermath of what was their love. She felt lonely, depressed, sick, isolated and  
mad with jealousy that Casper so obviously loved someone else.  
She walked into the cafe again.  
“Cheer up love, it might never happen.”  
“Just get me a hot chocolate – large.” she snapped.  
“Everybody hurts”# was playing on the radio  
“Aint that the case.” she thought.

Meredith needed isolation, above all she needed to get away. She could not be pregnant in these  
familiar surroundings, with twenty questions from curious well wishers each day.  
She made a few phone calls and spent some money, the end result being a small cottage booked on  
Skye for nine weeks. She arrived by train and ferry, traveling light.

The cottage was at the end of Storr road, white washed with two windows either side and a red door  
in the middle. It was located on the outskirts of Portree. The first evening she arrived, she sat by  
the open fire doing craft embroidery she had brought with her. She felt like a heroine from a  
nineteenth century novel who was sent away to the country for her “confinement”. As the weeks  
proceeded she felt like she was living the life of a fifty year old; not a twenty one year old.  
Her stomach much bigger now, she rambled around the cottage and garden. The interior was  
simply a bedroom, bathroom and dining kitchen. There was a portable TV and not much furniture,  
Meredith visited a second hand store and bought two lamps to cheer the room up.  
She went for long walks and got to know the territory. Skye was always stunning, watching the  
light change and the hazy lonely atmosphere on the beaches. One day she stared at a rainbow for  
an hour, feeling tranquil for the first time in months.  
She began to have alarming cravings for steak and roast potatoes, tinned apricots and evaporated  
milk; for which she made regular trips to a convenience store. Oddly, the woman serving her knew  
her name.  
“What are you in for today, Mrs Eastwick?”, said with a sly smile  
Meredith shot her a look which plainly said “Do not mess with me.” She picked up a loaf of bread  
and a jar of marmalade  
“How long are you stopping on the island?” the woman persisted  
“As long as it suits.” She didnt care if she appeared rude, having chosen the island to avoid  
questions.

That evening, feeling down, she was washing dishes and she said to herself  
“You are thinking about him again.”, and later “Stop thinking about him.” It was something about  
the warm soapy water on her hands, having a soporific effect, and her thoughts wandered..

After eight weeks of this quiet lifestyle, she became uneasy and visited the GP on the island.  
The dark haired man sat across from her, he said in a serious manner  
“We will have to get you checked over in Glasgow, Im afraid”  
“Yes”  
“Could your husband or a friend accompany you?”  
“I go alone, and I keep my private life private.”  
She knew she was in for a stern ticking off for not registering with them “in such an advanced  
state of pregnancy” - She was sent to Glasgow for a scan.

The next day she sat on the ferry, she was aware of someone standing close by. She looked up and  
recognized the convenience store assistant. The woman stared at Meredith coldly and then said

”I hope you and your illegitimate child fare well.” and marched away.  
Meredith sobbed, and felt humiliation and darkness all around her. She glanced down at  
the floor and saw a white feather lying there.  
“Isnt that supposed to mean angels are guarding you?” she said to herself.

Three weeks later, for she had been in no hurry to get to the hospital,Meredith was lying on a bed,  
looking around at the blue walls, in the maternity hospital in Glasgow,  
that day in August, while medical staff swarmed round her -  
“We are keeping you in for observation.”  
“Why?”  
“You are near full term.” said a young female Doctor in an exasperated tone, “Yet you failed to  
register with a Doctor and therefore your pregnancy has not been monitored.”  
“There were reasons.”  
After a long silence the Doctor said tersely “We are only interested in your medical situation.”  
The following day she was induced. Apparently she had gone over term. Alone, she felt removed  
from her body as the Doctors did what they would with her; internal examinations and blood  
pressure checks. Two hours later she thought -  
“Oh, that is why they call it labour.” Sensations of pain ripped through her body, finally an  
Anesthetist administered the epidural: Her baby was born.  
“You have a beautiful baby girl!”  
“I have a beautiful baby girl.” she repeated, in a zombie – like fashion, holding the 6lb 1 oz  
newborn in her arms. Merediths first instinctive thought was “I have to keep her.”  
Meredith named her baby Erica.  
She felt elation tinged with doubt, doubt and more doubts.  
One week later, she returned in a taxi with her newborn daughter to the rented flat in a sandstone  
tenement twenty minutes away from the centre of Glasgow. Meredith had found the flat  
through a letting agency, it was a one bedroom flat, quite decent really.  
Carrying the baby holder in one hand and a set of keys in the other, she entered the flat  
Whilst baby Erica had been recovering from jaundice in hospital, Meredith exhausted herself  
in cleaning the flat and shopping for baby essentials all of which she had procured now.  
Most of the baby stuff she had obtained from second hand shops or supermarkets. She coped  
admirably caring for “the baby” as she referred to her, trying in some way to maintain a distance.

She wrote at length in her journal late at night while Erica slept: She wrote about how she knew  
she was going to follow her intention of giving her baby up for adoption. She wrote how she was  
feeling awash with guilt, confusion, conflicting emotions and a rush of love which was  
overpowering when she cradled Erica in her arms, looking at her tiny fingers and toes. Doubts  
were always creeping about in her mind, however, and always returning to the main worry –  
Meredith did not feel she had the capability to follow through and keep Erica herself.

The middle-aged, kindly, health visitor named Joan, walked up to the front door within the  
sandstone tenement. This was the second visit to Ms Eastwick and her three week old baby.  
During her first visit Meredith had intrigued Joan who found her mysterious..  
The door opened and there stood before her was an attractive young woman, tall with blonde hair  
and blue eyes, with a strength and yet a vulnerability within her. It is almost, Joan thought, as if  
she had a cloak of sadness around her.  
Joan had hurried through her last appointment in order to be on time to see Ms Eastwick.

They sat facing each other at the mahogany dining table. Joan had completed her checks on Erica  
and was filling in details in a little red book “You take this red book with you to her future  
appointments. It is a record of her health.”  
Meredith offered her a cup of tea  
“Well, I dont usually, but yes why not?” said Joan encouragingly.She had the impression that Meredith wanted to talk.  
After a while Meredith showed her a small framed picture, of Casper. “This is the father of my  
child, his name is Casper.” she said, uncharacteristically for her, to converse openly with a  
stranger, but she realized now that she needed to talk.  
“He is very handsome.” Joan offered  
“Very handsome and very gone.” quipped Meredith.  
“You are my sixth appointment this week where the woman is left alone with a baby. You can get  
through this.”  
Suddenly, Meredith was crying convulsively. Joan shrugged, feeling a little awkward she put  
her hand on the young womans shoulder knowing that Meredith was suffering inside.  
Meredith felt slightly better for having cried; she was tired of keeping her cards close to her chest.  
Joan busied herself with tidying and folding baby clothes on the settee and then coo-cooing over  
Erica who was gurgling in her pram.  
“Come on, we will take Erica for a walk in the park and have a chat there.” said Joan  
September sunshine flooded through the small park and as they walked Joan asked -  
“Do you have relatives?”  
“All I have is an Aunt in England. She is seventy four now.”  
“You are renting that flat privately?”, Meredith nodded.  
“We can get you on a housing list this afternoon if that is your wish.”  
“I am not even meant to be living in Glasgow. I am just passing through.”  
“I am not here to tell you what to do.” Joan said, as patiently as she could.  
“Thats good then.” replied Meredith sarcastically.  
“Every woman gets the baby blues.” said Joan  
“I can assure you this is not the baby blues – There is no way you would know this about me, but  
\- “it has been my intention from the start to have Erica adopted.”  
Joan did not feel surprised, she had an inkling Meredith was going to say this  
“That is a hard decision to make.”  
“I have already decided.”  
Joan said “I will phone you in two days time, and here, take my card if you need to talk  
again. Somehow, we will sort you out.”  
Meredith anxiously asked -  
“If she was adopted, what sort of people would she go to?”  
“There are so many couples unable to conceive, desperate for a baby; we would have no problems  
placing Erica.”  
Tears fell from Merediths eyes  
Joan said “If you do not feel you can cope, then you will be doing the altruistic thing, but  
if there is even a little bit of you unsure; think again.”  
She pushed the pram back, and got them settled back in their flat; before she left, walking down the  
busy street, she thought to herself .  
“This job is emotionally draining.” and hurried along to the next appointment.

After that day in September, everything had become a blur to Meredith. When she tried to piece  
together events in chronological order, nothing seemed to make sense.  
Joan had visited her frequently along with various social workers who dealt with adoption.  
These people all seemed to work in groups. Then one day, when Meredith had “convinced  
them and herself that she was doing the right thing.”, she signed the adoption papers and  
quite soon after, Erica was taken away, along with some of her belongings, clothes, baby toys  
and bottles etc etc..


End file.
